


Frightened by the Bite

by hailmaries



Series: Dimi/Leth Porn Series [3]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angry Sex, Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Chair Sex, Derogatory Language, F/M, Feral Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Fucking, Hate Sex, I DONT HAVE A FOOT FETISH, Knifeplay, Rough Sex, please stop saying i have a foot fetish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-24 16:45:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21341455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hailmaries/pseuds/hailmaries
Summary: Byleth wanted to press his buttons, to figure out exactly what made him tick. If Dimitri was expecting a simple evening dinner, he was sorely mistaken.Footsies, chair sex, and knife play!
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth, Dorothea Arnault/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Series: Dimi/Leth Porn Series [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1535282
Comments: 6
Kudos: 89





	Frightened by the Bite

**Author's Note:**

> I've been having writer's block w this one. I dunno if it was FORCING myself to have a foot fetish porn reference tab open or what, but here it is. Quite late, as well. I'm uploading this late, anyway. So sorry for the wait!!
> 
> So,, I DON'T have a foot fetish. Just wanted to clear that up. Good talk. 
> 
> Anon, this one's for you. uwu
> 
> C/W for knifeplay, blood kink, female derogatory phrases  
But let's face it; if you're here, you probably don't need the warnings. Chair sex in this one. Enjoy it, you filthy sluts ;^)

It started as an innocent dinner invitation, which Dimitri surprised everyone by actually  _ showing up _ .

It wasn’t an invitation so much as a warning, Felix boldly grabbing Dimitri by the collar and threatening him. He’d better come to dinner, or else.

That’s the story Felix spun, anyway, and it elicited a laugh from Byleth. Judging by Felix’s reaction, he never expected her to laugh.

Dinner was subpar, made much more lively by Dimitri’s sudden entrance. People were scurrying out of the dining hall left and right, so as not to invoke the wrath of the Boar King. Byleth knew they had a right to worry. If he were to take his anger out, however, she knew he would prefer using her as a middle man.

Byleth tensed but soon relaxed after seeing the state of Dimitri; dark circles under his eyes, a noncommittal expression on his face. Byleth knew he was in no mood to lash out. She worried for him; if he was sleeping okay, if he was eating okay. There was no time for worry, however. Felix had set a place for him across from Byleth, which he took quite swiftly. Dorothea and Felix sat across from each other, Dorothea to Byleth’s left hand, Dorothea’s left hand in Felix’s right on the table. It was so disgustingly cute, Byleth could vomit.

Dorothea let go of Felix’s hand on the table, placing it under her chin. “Hello, Dima. So nice of you to join us.” It wasn’t malicious, but quite the opposite. Inviting, Byleth thought.

Dimitri spared her a glance, his gaze returning to the stew in front of him. Since the war started, rationing had been enforced. Portions were meager but not unfilling.

“Hello, Dimitri,” Byleth said, simply.

He glared at her. “What?” Venom. Poison. Ouch.

She feigned being hurt. “I was just trying to be friendly.”

Dimitri looked back at his stew, picking up the spoon and twirling it in the thick murky liquid. “Well, don’t.”

Felix scoffed beside Dimitri. “It wouldn’t kill you to be nicer.”

Dorothea, sensing hostility, took right to diffusing the situation at hand. “People could say the same for you, Fe.” She laughed, trying to ease the tension. It worked. Dimitri returned to his stew, Felix returned to Dorothea, and Byleth returned to...what was she doing, again?

Byleth wanted to press his buttons, to figure out  _ exactly _ what made him tick. If Dimitri was expecting a simple evening dinner, he was sorely mistaken. 

Byleth slid off her right flat, exposing her stocking-clad foot to no one. Byleth thanked the Goddess the dining tables were covered by a floor-length tablecloth. She watched Dimitri's expression as he sipped the dinner stew. The moment her toes touched the bare skin of his ankle, she noticed he jumped the slightest bit. His eyes darted up, glaring daggers at her.

Running her foot up his shin, angling it around his calf, elicited no response other than his piercing eye boring holes into her confidence.

Dorothea laughed next to the pair, her singsong chuckle broke through the haze. “He did  _ not _ say that, Felix, you dog!” She playfully hit his arm across the table. The lighthearted interaction nearly made Byleth forget her task.

Running her foot up his thigh, feeling him tense under the table, Byleth knew she could have at least  _ a little _ fun with him. She set her elbows on the table, pressing her tits together, stirring her soup in front of her.

_ C'mon, Dimitri. Bite. _

She pressed his bulge with the flat of her foot, eliciting a groan from Dimitri, which he hid with a sip of his wine. Only Byleth saw through his facade.

Feeling a surge of confidence, she hooked her toes around the waist of his trousers. Dimitri suddenly stood up, causing the table to shake and his chair to fall backward. “Dimitri!” Byleth feigned worry. “Are you okay?”

Dimitri glared at her, his eyes then turning to Felix, who looked just as shocked, if not a bit cross. “Fine.”

Dorothea called after him as he marched in the direction of his quarters. “What about dinner, Dima?” 

“I’m not hungry,” he replied. 

Felix looked between the two ladies with an inquisitive glare. “What’s eating him?” 

Byleth shrugged as she contemplated her options. “I’m unsure.” Excusing herself from the table, but not without a few suspicious glances, she followed the man.

A slap echoed throughout the cramped room as Byleth held her stinging cheek. "What the hell were you thinking, you fucking slut?" His eyes turned wild, a stark contrast to the uncaring glances a few moments ago at dinner. He turned around as Byleth struggled for the words to say. She saw his hands, balled up into fists. “Damn it. You can’t think of anything else besides my fucking cock, can’t you?” Whipping around, he turned to face Byleth. At that moment, she contemplated commissioning Ignatz for a painting of this scene, complete with steam coming from Dimitri’s ears.

“I-I…” she tried but realized talk was useless. He would steep in his anger until he fucked the life out of her. That’s how it always went.

The feral man retreated to his desk. It seemed to be a place of solitude for him; always sitting after their almost nightly fucks, but always before telling Byleth to leave. He sat once again on the corroded wood, the small chair paled in comparison to his large frame. Leaning forward, he placed his elbows on his knees. Dimitri sat back, the high back of the chair squealing under the weight. Byleth’s eyes followed his hands, leading them to the buttons of his trousers. His hard cock was freed from its confines.

“Since you want my cock so bad, come here,” he growled, never losing the edge. 

Byleth placed her hands at her sides, gripping the hem of her shirt. She contemplated just up and leaving, but that would not bode well should Dimitri require her...services again. Reluctantly, she took small steps to Dimitri, who was holding the base of his cock like he would a sword. He certainly wielded it like a deadly object.

“Shirt off,” he commanded. Byleth acquiesced, watching his ravenous eyes follow every curve of her body as she quickly removed her shirt, exposing her full breasts. She had felt daring that day, no bra was in sight. She stood in front of him, waiting for his next command. Dimitri pointed to her shorts. “Off.”

Off, they went. Byleth stood stark naked, feeling as vulnerable as ever. In all of their sessions, she had never been completely naked. At least one article of clothing remained on her at all times. This was one for the books, certainly.

Dimitri pumped himself once, twice, before reaching out and touching the curve of her hip. “What a shame. Such a lovely body and no one to care enough about it.” Byleth looked away, feeling the sting of tears come to her eyes. She knew he was trying to elicit a reaction out of her, after all, this was his anger talking. She hoped it was just his anger talking. Leaning back once more, Dimitri’s hand returned to his cock. The head was weeping, a small pearl gathering at the slit. He looked at her, his eyes narrowing. “Get on my fucking cock.”

Her cunt betrayed her, a deep and visceral wanting took over. Byleth turned around, presenting her ass to the man who she once highly regarded. Reaching between her legs, she positioned his cock at her entrance, barely sitting down enough for more than the head to enter her. A small noise escaped her lips.

This, apparently, was not satisfactory. Dimitri set upon her hips in a vice hold. Byleth was sure he meant to leave bruises, a reminder of who she belonged to. He brought her down to the hilt. Her mouth opened, a scream escaping before she slapped her hand over it. Dimitri groaned a deep and animalistic noise. His massive cock entering her in one go was not a pleasant feeling, but not unpleasant at the same time.

Dimitri did not wait for her to adjust but rather took matters into his own hands. He lifted her up by the hips, slamming her back down his cock at a steady pace. Byleth was certain he possessed untold strength, but even she was surprised he was capable of picking her up. Perhaps it was the adrenaline, she told herself. Instinctively, she threw her hands under her for leverage, gripping Dimitri’s thighs.

He had ceased holding her up, letting her set the pace instead. Byleth rutted against him. She had moaned his name.

Dimitri, unbeknownst to Byleth, had grabbed his dagger from the top of the desk. She felt the cold metal against the skin of her neck before she felt the pain. The razor-sharp tip threatened to split her skin. “How many times have I--ngh--told you? That man is dead.”

Byleth stilled, shocked that he would be so...so _ bold _ . “Di-- I don’t--”

“Shut up, whore,” he growled. “What’s the matter? Why aren’t you fucking my cock as you’ve so desperately wanted to?”

The tip of the blade pierced her skin, splitting it at the apex of her neck. She hissed at the pain, the telltale trickle of blood slowly making its way down her skin.

Every cell in her body was yelling, every hair stood on its end. Her mind was screaming to  _ go, leave, get the hell away. _

She was so close, she just needed to--

Her emotions were overshadowed by that familiar build up in her cunt as Dimitri had rutted his hips against her ass. That rise to glory and subsequent fall from grace.

The knife had been removed, replaced by Dimitri’s tongue. He had lapped up her blood like an animal.

She came-- _ hard. _ Harder than she ever had with any man nor woman for that matter.

“You’re probably enjoying this, you filthy whore. A glutton for pain.” Dimitri spat. “You’re just like the rest of them.”

Jealously knocked at the door to Byleth’s heart. Of course, he had “others.” What was she expecting?

Her post-orgasm emotional state was overshadowed by another orgasm building. It was a rare occurrence, but if anyone could bring on another, it would be Dimitri. Regardless of his level of courtesy.

The thrusts were becoming faster and more electric. Byleth cried out at the height of her second orgasm.

“Take my cock, whore. Take it  _ all _ \--” Dimitri groaned and fucked into her with lightning speed, his cock overstimulating her already sore cunt. Dimitri came, Byleth feeling his throbbing cock inside of her. She had stopped caring about the consequences long ago. Not that she wasn’t worried--quite the opposite, in fact. She was in no mind to contemplate the specifics.

Once Dimitri’s breath had slowed its pace, he lifted her off of his softening cock--

\--And dropped her. Right onto the floor.

Still coming down from her orgasmic high, Byleth barely registered Dimitri’s act of spite. She landed on her knees, the cold wood splintered at the drop.

Sore, in pain, and barely bleeding, Byleth rolled onto her back.

Dimitri tucked himself back into his trousers, a done deal. “You’d better be gone by the time I return.”

Byleth could only let her mouth hang open as Dimitri stepped over her like some inconvenient object on the floor. Once the door had closed, she set about retrieving her discarded clothes.

Pulling her shirt over her head, she was wary of her new wound. She would have to watch for infection, and---

A teal glint caught her eye. On the center of his desk laid a lock of hair-- _ Byleth’s hair _ , to be exact. She reached around and touched the back of her head. Sure enough, a section abruptly stopped much shorter than the surrounding hair. Byleth hadn’t even felt him cut it off.

Byleth scoffed as she turned to leave.

**Author's Note:**

> Next chapter coming soon!!
> 
> Lemme know what you think my loves <3


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